Thursday, February 12, 2009

Chapter 09

Roll Call:

Gherota, Human Fighter, Level 1. First and foremost a front-line swordswoman, and quite skilled. Irritated by Fisk's violent, exploitative worldview.

Gurnlocke Fisk, Dwarf Warlock, Level 1. A bitter spell-slinger with powers touched by brimstone. An advocate for Machiavellian methods and strategies.

Mairrethid, Human Wizard, Level 1. Student of mechanical magic and military theory, a war mage. Both moderate rationalist and mediator.

Mez Gobbo, Goblin Rogue, Level 1. Lockpick and shadow-skulking cut-throat. Motivated by enlightened self-interest, a mercenary.

Schlobrock, Ork Cleric, Level 1. Nature-worshipping shaman and medicine woman, with a huge axe. Has trouble pronouncing the letters F, S, T and V.


First Ch 01: Poot's Angels
Previous 
Chapter 08

 

When five adventurers were offered a substantial quantity of gold from a man who refused to offer specifics or answer questions, seeds of doubt and apprehension were planted in those five adventurers’ minds. However, between two assumptions--that they weren’t important enough to kill and that the man would want to see the job completed--and the price being right, the five proceeded. They were, thus, surprised to find themselves cornered far underground by a force of goblins that outnumbered them by more than three to one.

The five used a chokepoint within the fortress to their advantage in the coming fight, successfully destroying the goblin’s front-line fighters. However, a goblin spellcaster and a squad of goblin archers survived the battle, while four of the five adventurers were badly bloodied. The five fell back into their bolt hole, slamming and barring the door, to give themselves a chance to recuperate and plan their next move.

Gherota had twice fallen in combat, overcome by the goblins’ swords and a hex from their spellcasting leader. She was starting to come around, though, stabilizing and regaining consciousness.

Schlobrock didn’t benefit from the heavier armor and shield that Gherota carried into battle, and was definitely the worse for it. While still on her feet, Schlobrock was hurt very badly, a consequence of standing beside Gherota on the front line of the fight.

Mairrethid’s condition was equally dire. He had exchanged fire with the goblin spellcaster during the fight, and had been the loser. He weathered the consequences of that duel fairly well, but when Gherota collapsed a couple goblins penetrated within striking distance of the second rank. The unarmored Mairrethid received the brunt of those attacks.

Gurnlocke Fisk was in better condition that the others, having fed on the life force energy of fallen opponents throughout the fight to build protective shields. He was, however, still in bad shape.

Mez Gobbo, however, successfully avoided taking any damage at all during the fight. He had been very effective, wielding a crossbow and then his new magic shortsword to devastating effect. He was quick on his feet, though, and made good tactical decisions, all of which kept him out of harms way even as he felled enemies left and right.

The four who were wounded took a moment for themselves, resting for a few precious seconds to find a second wind, while Mez moved to help Gherota bind her wounds.

“You’re a nice goblin!” Gherota squealed at Mez as he approached, tearing a handkerchief into strips for bandaging.

“Don’t worry,” Mez said, assuringly, “I’m just trying to pick your pocket.”

Gherota chuckled a bit and let Mez help her.

“We need do dake a momend do ged dhiz bleeding under condrol,” Schlobrock announced.

“What about those goblins sending for reinforcements?” Fisk asked.

“We gave them enough time to assemble their forces the first time we baracaded ourselves in here,” Mairrethid argued. “I don’t imagine they had another force of similar size, gathering the back door or something in case our presence was some kind of feint.”

“I would be surprised if there weren’t a few more hobgoblins,” Mez suggested. “Any time you’ve got more than a dozen guys involved in something, they’re always going to post guards around what is most important to them.”

“Maybe this is what is most important to them,” Fisk suggested, pointing to the statue they had come to steal.

“If that’s true,” Mairrethid said, “then we’ll need to fight our way out, regardless. We should do what we can to recover from our wounds before we are forced to engage them again.”

“Yeah,” Schlobrock agreed.

“Okay,” Mez said, compromising. “But no more than five minutes. Whatever other men they have here, there may be another, larger force nearby. We could find ourselves surrounded by a small army very shortly, if we don’t get out of here quick.”

“We could try talking to them,” Mairrethid suggested. “Negotiate our way out.”

“They won’t negotiate,” Fisk said, “if that statue is the most important thing to them.”

“Maybe it isn’t,” Mez said.

“How do we know if we don’d azk?” Schlobrock asked.

“So, you want to just yell through the door, ask the goblin if we’ve got the most important thing in his entire castle?” Fisk challenged.

“More like, tell him we’re not interested in killing any more of his men,” Mairrethid countered. “I think I got nine, all by myself.”

“Not all by yourself,” Mez argued. “I messed a bunch of guys up, real bad.”

“Me too,” Fisk said, scowling at Mairrethid.

“My point is that we killed a lot of guys,” Mairrethid said, trying to calm his allies down. “That’s all, and maybe we don’t have to kill anymore. If they let us walk out of here unmolested, there is no reason for us to attack them, right?”

“Sure,” Mez agreed.

“I can think of a few reasons,” Fisk said, unconvinced.

“I won’t surrender,” Gherota burped from her position on the floor.

“Me either,” Fisk agreed.

“I’m not suggesting that,” Mairrethid said. “Just negotiation.”

“Even if we spend more time in an effort to recover,” Fisk argued, “the enemy is rallying against us, whatever their number.”

“Zcrew dheir number,” Schlrock interjected. “Gheroda and Merry can’d dake much more bighding.”

“And that goblin spellcaster hits hard,” Mairrethid added.

“Cats are brown now,” Gherota mumbled.

“So let me say, ‘hi,” Mairrethid argued. “What’s the worst that can happen?”

“Harkanian mind-probe,” Fisk snapped. “Once you open yourself to negotiation, they follow the psychic portal into your subconscious and boil your memories into nightmares. And bug-boy out there wouldn’t be the first goblin to learn the trick.”

“What?” Mez asked, confused.

“You’re a city goblin, you don’t know,” Fisk added, helpfully.

“You, on the other hand,” Mairrethid said accusingly, “are making all of this up. I know a think about the Harkanians.”

“Not nearly enough, college boy,” Fisk quipped.

“Look, I’m going to talk to him.” Mairrethid walked over to the door. “Goblins,” he called. “Look, we’ve already got what we came for. Maybe we can walk out of here without killing any more of your men.”

“What are your terms?” a small goblin voice answered back.

The five exchanged glances for a moment, unsure of how to proceed.

“He asked for terms, that means he feels vulnerable,” Fisk reasoned. “We can get him to make concessions beyond guaranteeing our safety out of here. In fact, maybe we should just rush out there and take him.”

Mez wasn’t sure he agreed, but riffed off the idea, projecting strength as he addressed the goblin, “We just needed a moment to drink a few healing potions, and we’re ready to be back in the fight, fresh and strong as when we started. So my only question for you is--what do you have to offer?”

“You’re a boastful liar,” the goblin voice replied, “and I think I may need to punish you for your hubris.”

Mez winced.

So did Fisk.

Mairrethid tried to correct the situation, “What we’re offering is a chance to let us walk out of here without any more fighting. I’m sure you realize, an effort to stop us will surely result in the deaths of more of your men, whatever the ultimate outcome.”

The goblin replied, “Maybe.”

Schlobrock whispered to Mairrethid, “We came in here and darded killing hiz guyz. How doez he led uz oud ob here and zdill lead dheze goblins? He’z god no backup, and he’z scared ob whad odher damage we’ll do do hiz crew.”

“You think he’s just posturing?” Mairrethid asked.

Schlobrock nodded, “He’z godda zabe az much bace az he can. We may or may nod be able do punch our way oud ob here, bud he’z godda bigure he mighd die in dhe addempd.”

“I don’t know about saving base,” Fisk interjected, “but he knows what’s in this room, and he’s got to be smart enough to connect the dots to that statue. If he cared that much about us taking it out of here, why would he have opened the door for negotiation in the first place?”

“I’ve got it,” Mez said. He called to the goblin leader, “Look, this goblin we aced here in the armory, he raped and killed my woman in Red Creek, so I got my guys together and tracked him to this hole as a debt of honor. We did what needed to be done, and were about to walk out of here, when you got in the way. So, we’re satisfied, and we can write the rest of this off to a misunderstanding.”

After a moment, the goblin leader’s voice came back, “True, an offense like that can’t be ignored, and old Bunny did like dangerous games.”

Mairrethid considered for a moment, and then suggested, “We don’t need much of a head start running out of here. Walk to the door, break into a run as soon as we’re in the clear or they start going for this room, to see what we might have taken. We can beat them heading back to the shaft up to the shepherd’s cottage, and block the door successfully so that they can’t pick us off while we climb.”

“Goblins might be able to run faster than us,” Fisk said.

“You mean,” Gherota interrupted, “faster than dwarves.”

“Or humans wearing heavy armor,” Fisk returned.

“Id will dibide dheir borcez burdher, bedween dhoze who can keep up and dhoze who can’d,” Schlobrock said. “Widh our already consziderable birepower and mighd, and dhe goblin leader nod wanding do cadch uz zo much, we will ged away ib we bollow Merry’z plan. Probably widh no more bighding.”

“That’s a vote for getting out as quick as we can,” Mez interpreted, “I think. I’ll add mine to it.”

“That’s three,” Mairrethid said. “A majority, I believe, for going with Mez’s fib and getting out of here as quickly as we can.”

“Fine,” Gherota said. “I’m game. Don’t expect me to make the final offer to the goblin, though.”

“Yeah,” Fisk added. “I think Mez will be best-able to seal the deal among us.”

“Tell me, then,” Mez called through the door to the goblin leader, “how about you just stand down, we stand down, we walk out of here, and you are left to tend to your dead, with our own twenty gold for your trouble and our apologies at not being permitted by other pressing concerns to stick around and pay our respects?”

“Fair enough,” the response came, quickly.

“That’s your twenty gold,” Fisk hissed at Mez.

“I’ve got it,” Mairrethid said, going into his purse and producing twenty coins. “We’ll vote, later, on whether we share the costs across all five of us. If we don’t, I’ll carry it myself, and applaud Mez for getting us out of here alive.”

Mez nodded in appreciation.

The five pulled themselves together for flight. A place was found, deep in Schlobrock’s backpack, to hide the statue they had come to steal. Gherota rediscovered her feet and composed herself. Slowly, each of them sounded off on being ready to go.

Gherota unbarred the door, with the other four arrayed behind her to provide fire support if necessary. She pushed the door open, to find the goblins having all relocated to the balcony on the opposite wall, though none of them were taking provocative action.

“Go in peace,” the goblin leader said, solemnly.

“Likewise,” Mez intoned, leading the party quickly, but cautiously, out of the hall.

There were no more goblins waiting for them outside, and the way back to the tunnel was clear. Just as Schlobrock passed through the door, leaving the goblin fortress, she noticed the goblin leader signal to one of his men to go check out the room.

“Run,” Schlobrock said, and without a word the five set off at a full run.

Their flight went much the way Mairrethid predicted. Behind them, they could hear the goblins start howling about the missing statue, and then the leader’s order to pursue. The goblins were quick, but they weren’t much quicker than the fleeing five, and less so when they stopped momentary to fire off arrows. The goblin leader threw a few spells after them too, but nothing that actually caused any damage or slowed their escape.

When the five reached the shaft up, Mez rigged the previously-trapped door so it couldn’t open while the others made the climb back to the shepherd’s house. Mez followed quickly, clearing the shaft before the goblins made it to the door.

Fisk pitched several pints of lamp oil down, and Mairrethid ignited it with a fire spell.

“That’ll take care of the landing at the bottom,” Mairrethid chuckled, “and give them another obstacle to clear coming up after us. After the fire dies down, of course.”

“I’m sure they’ve got another way out of their hole,” Mez cautioned, “but we saw no evidence of it, so it will take a while for them to get to it. Plenty of time to get away.”

“A good day’s work,” Gherota said.

“We could have taken those runts,” Fisk added, bitterly.


Next: Chapter 10

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